


Perfect Timing

by maven



Series: Policy and Procedure [2]
Category: Birds of Prey (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maven/pseuds/maven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an Alternative Universe as it’s a blend of the Birds of Prey television show and a variety of DC comic books, particularity The Killing Joke and the Batman titles between 1983 and 1991.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Perfect Timing

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Alternative Universe as it’s a blend of the Birds of Prey television show and a variety of DC comic books, particularity The Killing Joke and the Batman titles between 1983 and 1991.

Helena toyed with the grill cheese sandwich. 

It was a good sandwich. Extra thick cheese, toasted dark brown but not burned and smelling faintly of butter. It was surrounded by a ring of bread and butter pickles and a couple of spears of kosher dill pickles which even Barbara admitted counted as vegetables. A large glass of chocolate milk stood beside the plate along with two napkins. 

Helena placed two bread and butter pickles onto the sandwich. She frowned slightly and used one of the dill spears to make a mouth. Unsatisfied she picked up the dill and used it rapidly stab a mouth into the sandwich. 

"Something vexes thee?" 

Helena glared up at Alfred. "Ha ha. Quoting movies at me, Al?" 

"Obviously the sandwich has done something other than threaten cholesterol poisoning." 

"No," Helena said, twisting so that she could sneak a peak at Barbara. She was still engrossed in something on the Delphi's private monitor. Unlike the large display monitors attached to the ceiling or the oversized desk monitors that she normally used this one was small and had a privacy screen that prevented anyone who wasn't sitting directly in front of it from seeing anything but black. 

The cyber-porn monitor, Helena had called it once, causing Barbara to fling a mouse pad at her with uncanny accuracy. 

"Might I offer you a piece of timeless advice, Miss Helena?" 

"Sure, Alfred. Quote me," Helena said, slouching until the top of her head was even with the back of her chair. 

"Bwaak, bwaak, bwaak." 

"Say what?" 

"I believe you heard me, Miss Helena, and correctly interpreted my message." 

"If you weren't old and the only person who can cook in this place…" 

"Hey," Dinah said as she entered the kitchen area. "Why are you threatening Alfred?" 

"None of your business, Kid." 

"Miss Helena is being unnaturally cautious," Alfred said, placing a second grill cheese sandwich on the table. 

"Helena? Cautious? What about?" 

Two heads swiveled, one involuntarily, to regard Barbara. "Ah, yeah. What's up with that, Helena?" 

"Nothing is up with that. There is no "that". There is nothing to be up about," Helena gritted out. 

"Do you wish me to compare your spine to lime jello, Miss Helena, or have I goaded you sufficiently?" 

"Oh oh, this usually works. Dare ya." 

"Child. I just want the timing to be right." 

"Triple dog dare ya." 

Abruptly Helena stood, sending the chair skittering backwards to bang against the cupboards. 

"Dinah, stop teasing Helena," Barbara called from the other room, her attention still focused on the contents of the privacy monitor. 

"Fine," Helena hissed. Turning on her heel she walked purposefully toward the Delphi. She glanced over her shoulder at Alfred and Dinah, both of whom were flapping their arms. 

Sighing Helena took the last three steps, turned, and sat on the edge of the desk. 

"Hey," she said after a few seconds. 

"Hey," Barbara replied, attention still on the screen. 

"You haven't eaten your lunch." 

"Hmmmm." 

Helena sighed. "The warm stuff's going to get cold and the cold stuff warm, you know." 

"Microwave." 

Helena sighed and glanced again at the kitchen, shaking her head at the horror of Alfred and Dinah doing the chicken dance. Glaring at them she gave them the finger. 

"Helena!" Barbara said sharply. She shot a look over her shoulder at Dinah calmly eating a sandwich while Alfred dried dishes. "Language." 

"Sorry," Helena said but Barbara's attention was already back at the monitor. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Taking a deep breath Helena reached down and pressed the off button. 

"What the? Helena! How many times have I told you not to do that unless it was important?" 

"Seven. Three times when you were going to be late for work, twice when you were going to be late for one of your dad's functions, once when Dinah broke her arm and once when the kitchen was on fire. So work it out." 

Barbara looked quickly to the kitchen and then focused on Dinah. "So what's the emergency now?" 

"It's complicated," she said turning to the kitchen as well. "Guys?" 

"Homework. Massive amounts of homework that I will do with my headphones on while listening to my music loudly. Not loudly enough to permanently damage my ears, of course," Dinah said, grabbing her plate and glass and leaving quickly. 

"I do believe we are out of both peanut butter and Kraft dinner. I will return in approximately one hour," Alfred said, neatly folding his apron. 

"Okay. That was very strange," Barbara said, eyes darting at the blank screen. "I thought there was an emergency?" 

"No. It's non-emergency important. To me it's important. I just, you know, have some questions I'd like you to answer. No big deal, just important." 

"Ask away." 

"Did you ever, you know, when I first came here, ever think of me as your kid? You know, mom and daughter." 

Barbara frowned. "Ooooh-kay," she said slowly, clearly at sea. "No. I mean, I tried to do my parental duties but I never wanted to be your mother." 

"Why not?" Helena asked abruptly. 

"Because, for the most part, you had good memories of her and you didn't need me taking that from her." 

"So, maybe, sisterly? Cousinly? Any close relationship?" 

Barbara reached out, suddenly, grabbing Helena and jerking her close to peer into her eyes. 

"Oh, Jesus, Babs, I'm not high or drunk." 

"No, but you’re acting very strange. What's up?" 

"I need to do this in order or I won't be able to do. So, sister?" 

Barbara adjusted the chair, pushing it away from the desk slightly in order to talk more easily. "Not really. I mean, sisterly but you're not my sister. Friends." 

"Close friends?" 

"You're sounding very insecure, Helena." 

"Yeah, I understand that a lot of superheroes have confidence issues when they're not being all hero. Maybe that's why Mom and him only did it when he was…" 

"Too much information!" Barbara yelled, covering her ears and closing her eyes in vain. 

"Yeah, sorry. So. Close friends." 

"Yes, Helena. Even when we fight or argue." 

"Good, good," Helena said. "When I was ten and you were eighteen it seemed you were so much older than me. But, you know, when you're 88 I'll be 80 and that's not really that much of a difference right?" 

From her expression Helena could see that Barbara had given up trying to figure out the conversation. 

"So, what about the difference between 32 and 24? Is that a big difference to you?" Helene asked with studious casualness. 

"Not really. Did you meet someone older than you, Helena? Someone you want to date?" 

"Sort of." 

The relief was obvious. A puzzle solved. "No. I'd say that 24 and 32 wasn't unacceptable." 

"Good, good. How about, what if it wasn't a guy?" Helena asked, looking at the ceiling. 

"Helena, we discussed this during The Talk. Which was, by the way, the most traumatic talk I've ever had. So I don't wish to repeat anything but the assurance that your attraction to women, men, humanlike aliens doesn't change my love and respect for you." 

"Could you?" 

"Could I what?" 

"You know," Helena, said, "be attracted to someone not a man." 

"Someone like a woman?" 

"Someone like me, actually," Helena said. And then looked at the ceiling and closed her eyes and wished desperately to be doing anything else in the universe even something she hated. Like being dumped in the river fully clothed or -- 

"Helena?" 

\--a dental appointment-- 

"Hey, Helena?" 

\--or dusting. 

"How does Alfred dust the rafters?" 

Helena looked down at the hand on her leg, wondering how long it had been there before following it up to Barbara's face. 

"I have no idea." 

"Why not? I can see him doing it when I'm not around but you're always here." 

"No, that's not what I meant." 

"Oh. Just wondered," Helena said, nodding thoughtfully. "So the no idea was about my other question?" 

"Yes." 

"And should I take the fact that you're not wheeling away at Mach 5 to mean you're not repulsed by the idea or that you're, like, catatonic?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh," Helena said. "Listen, just forget this conversation. I'll go and --" 

The hand on her leg slid higher as Helena stood to stand. Helena sat down abruptly, more due to the sudden loss of blood to her head than the actual physical barrier. 

"Stay," Barbara said firmly. 

"Sure," Helena agreed. She reached down, hand covering Barbara's and slid it closer to her knee before giving it a slight squeeze and releasing it. 

"Helena, what exactly are you asking? What do you want?" 

"I've never done this before," Helena said abruptly. 

"What, sweetheart?" 

"This. See, usually, if I want to spend time with someone I just," she stopped and shrugged her shoulders. 

"Wink and crook your finger in a come-hither-and-fuck-me motion." 

"Not how I'd phrase it," Helena said, faintly shocked. "Actually, that is pretty much how I'd phrase it but not how I'd expect you to," Helena muttered. "I don’t know what I want. Not really. I just don't want that." 

"I see," Barbara said, nodding thoughtfully. "How do you feel about going to the opera?" 

"I'd rather break a case of light bulbs on the training room floor and roll around in the shards naked." 

"Go with me?" 

"What time do I pick you up?" 

"Eight o'clock. Tomorrow. Formal attire." 

"Got it." 

"See you then." 

"Right. Going home. Things to get ready. Formal?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm just going to go jump off the balcony now." 

"In broad daylight? Dressed in red? Bit obvious, Hel," Barbara said, following Helena out to the balcony. 

"Well, it's either that or explode. Do you have to pay for the opera? I mean, seems harsh to pay them to torture you." 

Barbara shook her head. "I have season tickets. You know that." 

"Season tickets. Discount on your bulk torture needs," Helena said as she stood on the balustrade. 

"Helena, seriously. You said you don't know what you want. Well, I don't know what I can give." 

Helena grinned. "A chance. That's the answer to both," she said before stepping backwards into space. 

Barbara moved forward, grabbing the balustrade to pull herself up and look over the edge. She caught a flash of red as Helena swung into the alley, away from prying eyes. 

"One of us is insane," she muttered. "And I don't think it's the one that just jumped off a building." 

END


End file.
